Dauntless
by GameofLove
Summary: Not even Voldemort could have guessed what power Hermione Granger, the muggleborn, possessed. But he had an inkling. HBP compliant. Strong violence.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning- Strong descriptions of torture. Not fluffy.

--

Hermione crouched behind a car parked across the street from her home, hair, forehead, and brown eyes visible through the car windows as they spied on the two figures standing on her front porch. They were facing the doorknob, a fact that Hermione was very thankful for, and she saw a wand being produced and heard a spell being murmured. It was no difficult question as to the two people were, their distinctive hair giving that away easily (one was a startling blonde and the other greasy and dark), but it was a difficult question as to what Hermione was going to do about it.

She pulled out her own wand and considered her options quickly. The spells and wards she had placed over the home were considerable and extensive which would bide her some time to contact someone, _anyone_, to come to her rescue. Although, she knew Severus Snape was quite accomplished in his magical abilities, she hade no real idea as to how well his ability in bringing down wards was honed. As for Draco Malfoy, she had no idea.

Said duo was now through the first ward, Hermione noticed, as a blue sheen of light glazed over the door. There were several more wards, each a tad more extensive than the last, but Hermione would have thought that they would have taken a lot more time for the two to get through than it had. She hoped and prayed her parents weren't home and frightened upstairs. Hermione had warned them that people with malicious intent might attempt to enter the house at any given time even in disguise as Hermione herself.

"Merlin help me." Hermione murmured and stood on the spot. Instantly she Apparated to just outside the Weasley's grounds, knowing that the place was crawling with wards and would prevent her from going any closer without walking. She saw the distinctive shimmer of the wards as she passed through them and almost immediately a redheaded woman was peeking through the kitchen windows in Hermione's direction. Hermione gave a wave hurried to the door, preparing to answer the question Molly was sure to ask.

"Hermione, dear." Mrs. Weasley said with a gentle smile through the screen on her door, "What did I give you for Christmas last year?" She had an apron on and was positively covered in flour, but her smile was completely genuine.

"You knitted me a lovely light blue chenille sweater with lilac stripes around the collar and cuffs." Hermione replied without missing a beat. "Quite lovely and warm, I must say." She grinned as Mrs. Weasley allowed her entrance and made her way into the tiny kitchen with the ever-scrubbed wooden table. "I've got a problem, Mrs. Weasley, and I ask for some discretion in you reaction."

"What is it, Hermione?" Molly asked with a creased brow. She was wiping her floured hands off of her apron and in an instant was all business.

"Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape are outside my house trying to gain entrance as we speak. I was on a walk and came back to see them decimating through my wards. They've a substantial amount to go through yet, seeing as they aren't me and don't know the words to bring them down, but I need some immediate action." Hermione looked around the kitchen and then back into Mrs. Weasley's eyes. "I don't know if my parents are home or not or anything."

"Hermione, there could have been Death Eaters watching you." Mrs. Weasley immediately admonished, "I hope you came here immediately. Did you?" When Hermione nodded, Mrs. Weasley sighed in relief. "They might have managed to place a tracker on you. They're relatively a new danger, but they're still a real one all the same. Hold still a moment." She pulled her wand from her apron pocket and ran it over Hermione whispering "Finite Seguire."

"I've never heard of that spell." Hermione said in wonder at Mrs. Weasley, who looked up to Hermione and smiled a little painfully.

"Dumbledore managed to develop the counter for it before the end of last year." Mrs. Weasley said and tutted. "You're clean dear, from the looks of it. I'll talk to Arthur. You are not to go back to your house under any circumstances, am I clear? You would be in horrible danger."

Hermione looked horrified, "I have to go back!" she practically screamed at Mrs. Weasley, "My parents are there and there is no way I would ever leave them to defend themselves against the man who murdered Albus Dumbledore and the boy that's hated me since I stepped foot into Hogwarts." She pulled out her wand.

"Hermione, no! That's not what I meant." Mrs. Weasley said hurriedly and placed a hand in the air in defeat. "I'm just going to talk to Arthur. I don't want you there without people to back you up is all I meant." She looked at Hermione as though expecting her to try to Apparate away before she could get a word in. "I'll be right back."

Hermione nodded and sat at the table as a sign of acquiescence. She twiddled her wand in her fingers absentmindedly and wondered where everybody was. Normally there was quite a crowd in the kitchen whenever Mrs. Weasley was cooking. She could see into the living room and couldn't spot anybody there either. She felt a little helpless and quite alone for a couple of moments.

Said moments ticked by quickly and Hermione kept looking at her watch anxiously. Five minutes had passed since Hermione had shown up. What could possibly be taking them this long to come to an agreement? She looked at the tortellini lying all over the counter that Mrs. Weasley had been preparing and then back at her watch. Snape would almost be through the wards easy. She twiddled her wand for a moment and then stood up. She practically ran out of the house and away from the grounds, knocking chickens out of the way, and Apparated before she could convince herself that she might be Apparating into danger.

She was standing in her neighbor's back yard- and she was grateful that she hadn't been that accurate in where she wanted to land. She slipped through the wooden gate and around the side of the house to get a good vantage of her front porch. They weren't there anymore. Hermione took a deep breath and cast the Disillusionment charm over herself, shuddering as the cold-water feeling covered her entire body and seemed to settle into her skin. She was camouflaged and could move around a little easier at least.

She stayed close to her neighbor's house and scaled the side and then moved to her front porch. "Revelio Cherming," Hermione placed her wand on the front door and waited. The spell was to tell her if there were wards over the door or not. Nothing happened. The wards were down. "Lovely." Hermione whispered to herself and pushed the front door open.

Needless to say, Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape were not simply standing in the doorway waiting for her. Hermione gathered her nerve a little more and crossed the threshold with a brazen step. Her wand was held out in front of her like a sword as she began the search of the rather cavernous Granger home. It was not a small home in the least, with two stories and many rooms on each floor, but Hermione had never disliked her home until then. There were so many hallways and rooms they could be lurking in.

Hermione immediately searched the living room for signs of her parents being home. She hadn't been gone too long on her walk, but her parents were due home from work almost immediately if they weren't already returned. She walked through the kitchen to check for their car. The garage door seemed to creak abnormally loudly, and Hermione could feel her heart leaping in her throat so loudly she was surprised the whole world didn't know. The car was in the garage.

_Oh Gods. _Hermione shut the door with a click and turned around and faced the open, silent house with frightened eyes. Her parents were in there somewhere as were two Death Eaters who would sooner kill them than look at them. She walked through the kitchen back into the living room and up the stairs, which she suddenly remembered with delight were carpeted. And her Mum said that carpet was tacky. She felt a slight smile tug at the corner of her lips at the thought. Well, it would at least cushion her movements.

She stepped over the stair that she knew was notorious for creaking and took a deep breath as she reached the top of the landing. All of the doors leading to other rooms were closed, and all of the lights were off. _Nice._ Hermione, her wand still raised in front of her without fail, cast an opening charm over her door from a couple of feet away. It looked completely the same as it had before she had left. She sighed and then her eyes widened with a potentially horrible thought.

_What if they have invisibility cloaks?_

Hermione whirled on the spot taking in the whole house with wide eyes. They could be three inches away from her and she wouldn't know it. She honed her train of thought back to her parents and getting both herself and them to safety. Invisibility cloaks were _very _rare at any rate and it was highly unlikely. Hermione cast an opening charm on the master bedroom door and it swung open.

Draco Malfoy, the picture of calm and serious, stood just in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back, a thin smile on his face. Hermione looked at him as though he were the pure devil and pointed her wand at his forehead in an instant. He then moved slowly and put his hands up in surrender.

"Oh don't _stun_ me." He mocked, "Please, Granger, let's spare each other the theatrics for a moment, shall we?" He leaned against the doorway comfortably and crossed his arms across his chest. "Now lower your wand like a good girl. You can see my hands and you can see I'm not armed."

"And why should I trust you for one millisecond?" seethed Hermione through her tightly drawn mouth. "Where are my parents, Malfoy? I swear I'll kill you if you've done something to them."

Draco looked almost amused, "Kill me? Please, _Mudblood, _you probably couldn't even give me a nosebleed if you tried to kill me. Isn't the Killing Curse a tad bit too dark for you?"

"Stop avoiding the subject, Malfoy. I saw you and Snape on my porch and I know my parents are home. Now tell me _what the hell you've done with them_ or we'll have to find out how easily killing would come to me." Hermione responded tartly, preparing to curse him into oblivion. She had never felt so angered in her entire life, and she hardly even felt as if she were bluffing. She met Draco's eyes squarely.

"What if I said Severus was casting an Entrail-Expelling curse over them as we speak and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it, hmm?" Draco asked as if he were asking a child if they wanted candy, "I'm sure you know all of the _gory_ details about this curse. Tell me why it's so lethal, Granger."

Hermione, who had practically screamed in rage when she heard the curse pass Draco's lips, strode forward, "Only the caster can recall the spell!" She screamed and tried to force her way through the doorway past Draco, who shoved her back and watched her stumble. "Get out of the way you stupid-"

"_What the hell have you done to my wife? Oh my god, Alice!"_

Draco laughed in Hermione's face and snapped his fingers, causing ropes to form in midair and wrap themselves around Hermione before she had time to cast the counter curse. She wobbled precariously on her spot and then fell over and hit her shoulder on the wall, managing to keep straight. "Mum! Dad!" she screamed over Draco's shoulder, and screamed in absolute rage as Draco slammed the door in her face, disappearing behind it. "Come back here you pathetic excuse for a human! Coward! Come face me!"

_I can still use my wand. It's still in my hand. _Hermione realized. He hadn't thought to take it from her, and it was still in her hand. "Finite Incantatum." She felt the ropes loosen and dissipate all in the same instance. Her father's screams carried into the hallway with ease and Hermione could hear her mother's whimpers as well. She tried the door and wasn't surprised to find it locked.

"Alohomora!" Nothing. "Finite!" Nothing. Finally, fed up, she screamed, "Bombarda!" The door exploded in an instant, all of the wood flying everywhere, and Hermione had to shield her eyes to not get flying splinters in them. She felt a couple of pieces cut her skin, but she hardly registered the pain that came along with it. She stepped over the wreckage and blasted open the bathroom door with the same spell.

Snape and Malfoy weren't there, but her parents were. Her father was lying on his stomach, crawling over to his wife, who was clutching her chest and panting wildly, eyes closed. Hermione saw that her skin was turning a sallow yellow color quickly and that all of the skin around her partially exposed navel was beginning to blacken in rapid succession.

"-ermione!" Her mother gasped out, unable to pronounce the "h", "Get out of 'ere now." She stifled her scream as the skin on her stomach began to dissolve slightly, the center sinking down. Black blood seemed to be diffusing from her skin all over the place. Her inside was slowly being exposed to the cruel air.

Her father looked up at her, and Hermione saw that half of his face seemed to be- could it be _melting? _She sank to her knees beside the two of them and tried not to cry although her eyes were smarting like they'd been exposed to onions. The smell was nearly unbearable. "What can I do, Mum?" she whispered, her wand in her hand and passing over the rapidly decaying stomach. Her mother seemed to be on the verge of passing out, each ranting sentence becoming more and more incoherent.

"I loff- love- you both- need- kill me." Her mother's back arched, making several organs protrude. "KILL ME, HERMIONE." Her shout was unearthly, her eyes opening and revealing yellowed whites and dilated pupils. Her hands scrabbled at the floor and across the tile to grasp Hermione's wrist with an inhuman amount of strength. "Do it."

"Hermione." Her father said from her side looking at her in wonder, "You couldn't kill your own mother." He looked back at his wife. "Heal her! You can do it, Hermione, you can fix her, can't you?"

"Do it." The demand was still strong, and Hermione couldn't even imagine the amount of pain her mother must be experiencing. The last of the process took about ten minutes, meaning the victim would have to endure it as long as possible. Part of the incantation was to give them extra adrenaline so they wouldn't faint. "Do it, Hermione."

"Hermione, no!" Her father shouted, "You can't kill your own mother, forget what she's saying. You can save her. I love her too much to let her go, Hermione! It would kill me." His own face was a grotesque twist of horror. Half of it was normal, but the other half was drooping, the skin being pulled away from the bone. His eye was covered by skin now, and he could only see through one. But he didn't even seem to feel it.

"I have to. She's in pain." Hermione said. "I have to do something." She closed her eyes as her mother's insides were nearly completely exposed. The organs were beginning to dissolve. It wouldn't be too long before her mother would die of the pain and lack of functioning organs in her body. "Dad. I can't just let her go through this."

"Hermione." Her mother gurgled through the blood in her mouth, "Ted. Leave it." Her whole body was emaciating itself visibly. Her whole body was decaying.

Hermione looked at her dad and then to her mother and then realized she was kneeling in broken glass from the mirror. And the window was wide open, letting in the outside heat. Her hand tightened on her wand and she pointed it at her mother and muttered the strongest pain-relieving spell she could muster. It didn't seem to be doing any good. She considered her options and wondered how on earth things could be any worse.

"I've got to do it." Hermione said to her dad. "I've got to."

"No!"

"Avada Kedavra." Hermione whispered, hoping with every fiber of her being that the spell wouldn't be painful and only alleviate her mother from the pain she was experiencing. Instead of the tell-tale green light exploding from the tip, a silvery white see-through Phoenix slipped out and to the ground. It straightened and shook out its luminous feathers and then moved so that it was inside Hermione's mother's body. It lay down, and Alice Granger gasped a last breath and then her entire body relaxed. Her skin repaired itself, the patina becoming a normal tint, and faded with the absence of blood running through the veins.

"What-?" Her father stammered from her side, and Hermione, for once, had no explanation.

"I don't know." Hermione said and released her wrist where her mother's hand still clung to it, "It wasn't supposed to be so- so-" She looked up and met the eyes of her former professor she didn't realize was standing in the doorway.

"And that, Draco, is why we were sent on this mission." Severus Snape whispered. His dark eyes were unreadable, but Hermione thought she detected a hint of excitement behind them for a millisecond. "Stupefy."

And Hermione Granger, who had managed something she had no clue she could do, passed out without any fight. Her head hit the ground with a loud crack as she landed.

--

Review it? Not? I know where this is going. This will be a cannon story. It's a storyline I've had in my head since before HBP was even put out. It should be a wild ride. 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.

Warning- Strong descriptions of torture. Not fluffy. Perhaps PG-13 romance, but I don't expect that to be a big part of the story.

Note- You are supposed to be confused. If you knew every little detail about what happened, there would be no story, would there?

--

It was not like Hermione to be the one to swoon when things got rough. Everybody and their brother knew that at Hogwarts. She had been subjected to many unappealing situations and faced them with more courage and fortitude than many grown men would. It was amazing, then, that she was feeling a little bit like she was about to swoon as she gazed around at her surroundings. Not a typical cell like she would have been more prepared to face, but a true torture chamber. Dark blood stains seemed to splatter about half of the wall surface, and in the corner there was a pile of white sticks that looked sickeningly like human femur bones.

She didn't remember any of the process of arriving in the cell, nor the situation she had faced at her home very clearly, but she was sure she was underground and she was absolutely sure there was a magic-depleting blanket over the entire cell. She already felt weaker and couldn't help but wonder how Muggles managed to get around without the extra boost of magical stamina that was the norm for any witch or wizard. The whole think seemed to be a bleak affair, and Hermione didn't see herself getting out of any of it alive. She had actually thought it all over and decided that if anybody were to die, she would probably be the least important and therefore less-missed member of the Order.

_Maybe it's better this way._ Hermione couldn't help but think after another stretch of time passed that seemed to last days. She had no idea how long she'd been imprisoned before she woke up to find herself placed in the cell. She was beginning to feel sharp hunger pains and a fierce thirst, however, and she wondered if she was meant to starve to death. But surely Voldemort would want to deal with her himself.

She was sitting in the corner opposite the pile of bones. There were bloody-looking tools hanging from rusted knobs on the walls, but it seemed as though they hadn't been put to use for a long time. Maybe it was all for show, then? Hermione doubted it. The blood certainly didn't look to be fake, and the pile of bones gave off a distinctly rotten smell that verified that it wasn't. The whole room was about the size of a standard Muggle bathroom without the appliances. The doorway was solid iron, and although Hermione was tempted to pound on it until someone came, she was afraid at what might be on the other side.

And what _was_ all that business back at her house? Surely her father was now dead, and undoubtedly her mother was too. But it was the Killing Curse she had used that had baffled her. Although she couldn't remember too much about what was said and other specifics, she could remember the silvery, translucent Phoenix that had settled inside of her mother and repaired her while taking her life. It was definitely not how _Avada Kedavra _usually happened, as she had witnessed the impostor Alastor Moody perform said curse during her fourth year. There was a blinding flash of green light, a looming rush of death, and then nothing. Death. No healing, no Phoenix for crying out loud. What was it?

Hermione scoured every inch of her mind for any information she might have had pertaining to such a reaction to the Killing Curse, but she couldn't seem to come up with anything even close. Oh, what she would give for the extensive Hogwarts library! And yet, she felt time lapse by in a cruel fashion until she was dozing off and waking up to a sharp tap upon the door.

Hermione didn't know how long she had been asleep (or had she really?), but she sat up with a jerk and debated quickly on whether or not she should stand up. She settled on staying seated, since she would probably be down on the ground in the throes of the Cruciatus Curse before too long. It was a grim fate, although it was one she had accepted after what seemed like days of thought on the subject. A grim fate indeed, but Hermione Granger was not one to swoon, no matter how much she felt like it, and she intended to go down with dignity and nothing less.

The door opened, and Hermione caught a glimpse of the outside hallway that was a medicinal-white and spotless, before the overwhelming presence of Lord Voldemort himself was standing in the doorway, blocking the view. Hermione remained seated even as a nameless Death Eater filed in before him and stood before her. She was sure her appearance was less than appealing and she couldn't help but wonder what they thought of her and if they knew how strong-willed she could really be. Probably not, but they would learn soon enough.

"So we finally meet, face-to-face." Voldemort said directly to Hermione, his icy-pitched voice raising the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck with ease, "After receiving reports from the Malfoys on you for years now it feels like we should have been introduced long before now, doesn't it?" He laughed a bitter laugh and gestured around him, "I'm sure you noticed the dampening charms placed over your cell. I had them honed in on your magic directly. Your wand is still in your pocket, although you won't find it of much use."

Hermione instinctively reached and pulled her wand out of her pocket in disbelief. It had been there the whole time and she hadn't known? How was that even remotely possible? She held it in her fingers and felt tears burning in her eyes even as she furiously told herself not to even tremble in the Dark Lord's presence. "Convenient." She remarked dryly, wishing her voice didn't sound so weak and that she had some form of liquid to relieve her thirst.

Voldemort laughed again, the high-pitch putting Hermione even more on edge. "Yes, yes, it's quite convenient. And now, to business." He was suddenly quieter, and Hermione saw the Death Eater that was still standing silently in the corner tense up visibly. "You are aware that you cast the _Avada Kedavra _curse two mornings ago against your own mother. Am I correct?"

Hermione looked up into his red eyes and detected more malice in that one stare than any look she'd ever seen given to anyone. She couldn't understand how someone so monstrous could act so civilly and even humored. "And why," she asked, nevertheless with a nerve of steel, "Did you think that you could possibly even come in here and talk to me like I don't hate the very air you breathe?" It was a fair question in Hermione's opinion, but fair didn't stop the Cruciatus from being cast her way so quickly it made her dizzy.

And then she was suddenly in more pain than she had ever been in her life. Her head was being pounded with hammers. Her chest cavity had surely exploded from beneath her sternum. He would be showered with bits of her any moment. White-hot knives were slicing her throat and stomach and legs and everywhere they could touch. Someone was screaming in her ears so loudly it hurt them. And then there was no more pain and the only one screaming was she. Hermione lay on the floor for nearly half a minute panting and twitching before Voldemort's boot caught her on the side and flipped her over on her back.

"Your first experience with the Cruciatus Curse?" He asked and he sounded most delighted, as if someone had just told him Father Christmas was bringing him every toy he could possibly ever ask for. "Oh really, Hermione?"

It was his saying of her parent-given, _Muggle_ name that sent Hermione flying over the edge and she was leaping from the ground and at his throat before she had time to draw a breath. Needless to say she was blocked before she had a grip on even his collar, but Hermione was panting so hard and struggling against the seemingly invisible assailant so strongly that it was a difficult task. "You _monster!_ You're the reason my parents are dead, you absolute hypocritical, evil monster!" She was screaming again now, but of her own accord. The Death Eater that had been standing to the side quietly hit her with a spell so quickly, she was caught off guard and sent falling back to the ground again.

"Monster, indeed." Voldemort remarked and walked out of the cell with the Death Eater and shut her back up again.

Hermione spent the next several hours trying to quench her impossible thirst. There was a slow trickle of water of questionable origin down one wall, and she found herself having to lick the concrete to get the moisture in her mouth. But thirst was thirst, and she seemed to be positively dying of it. She used the corner of the room with the bones in it to urinate in. At first she had tried very hard to not do so at all, but it was impossible after a while.

Lord Voldemort did not come with the Death Eater the next time. Some other nameless, unremarkable drone placed a bowl of water in front of her and cast a cleaning charm over the corner Hermione had been using for relief purposes. His eyes glanced quickly at her face and Hermione caught his eyes and raised her grimy chin defiantly. She wasn't one to be broken easily, and she wasn't about to go down without bringing havoc in her wake.

The dampening field that was over her cell had indeed made her magic dissipate almost completely. It was typical for any witch or wizard to feel their magic inside of them even when they weren't directly casting spells, but Hermione definitely felt far weaker. She still locked her jaw and stared the Death Eater down for what seemed like well over a minute.

"You think you're brave by putting up a fuss?" He hissed after a while, "You think that a stoic _Mudblood_ such as yourself makes an impact on anybody around here? It's a do or die kind of world we live in, and you're about out of time." His eyes looked restless, and Hermione could tell whatever he was saying was a lie, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Now I'll tell you," she said, "I may not be a _pure blooded_ specimen such as yourself and I may never be rich or powerful or any of the things you thrive for, but I have more dignity than you in my little finger simply because I don't serve some hypocrite shell of a man that twists lies around you so much you don't know what you believe." She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, waiting for him to kill her. She wasn't scared at all. Death had crossed her mind far too often for her to be scared at the moment of truth.

She was awarded with the sound of her cell door slamming shut.

"Lovely." Hermione said.

--

Lord Voldemort was angry. Not in the _"oh I can't believe you didn't replace the toilet paper roll"_ kind of angry, but spitting, venomous, _"the next person I see I am going to kill" _kind of angry. His red eyes flashed dangerously as he mulled over what he was discovering bit by bit. His special dampening charm over the cell his little Mudblood friend was in was giving him readouts of Hermione Granger's magical capacity. Figuring out what made her work was of the utmost importance, and now he was sure he had at least a bit of it figured out.

Because of her blood, her Muggle-born blood, Hermione Granger was a strong witch. It was undoubtedly so, even to Lucius Malfoy, who detested every pigment of skin on the girl's body. Voldemort had kept a slight secret from his followers that would make their beliefs be taken for a spin. According to the readouts, Hermione's magic inside of her body was a more pure stream of magic because it wasn't tainted with many bloodlines of generalized and streamlined pedigree.

Her magic was a raw, nearly untamed, threshold of absolute power and undoubtedly awesome capacity. And she was stronger than even the most powerful Mudblood he had ever known- Lily Potter. And Voldemort had thought that Lily was the ultimate in Muggleborn power. How wrong was he? He now had in his possession the girl that could possibly change the entire outcome of the Wizarding war. And did her precious Order know this? Obviously not, or they would have tried to protect her far better. Not that it would matter. Lord Voldemort was a frightening sight when he wanted something.

Voldemort now considered everything that had happened thus far, and smiled an eerily pleasant smile that still looked grotesque when draped over his pale features. Albus Dumbledore, the very man that Voldemort considered a huge threat, was now dead by the hands of his own faithful spy Severus Snape. Voldemort didn't know whose side Snape had been on at times, but he was absolutely sure where he stood at the present. Power had been something that Severus had wanted more than anything, and Voldemort, the powerful giver that he was, could bless anybody with an unnatural amount of it.

Oh yes, Voldemort was angry, though, even through the smiles he was giving. That Mudblood had no right to even begin to talk to him that way. He had thought to preserve her character by not torturing her, but he was quickly reconsidering. The water he had given her was laced with Veritaserum, but Voldemort was sure Hermione would know that. But after a couple more days of no water, even she would begin to reconsider very nicely.

It wasn't that Voldemort wanted an enemy out of her; on the contrary, he would rather delight in having her on his side. But persuasion played a very large part of getting people on one's side, and persuasion is not always the prettiest of actions.

He was looking over some of his old notes before he became what he was- _Voldemort._ A name he had made for himself with years and years of hard work, and he would be damned if he had labored this long to have some witch with no idea about the power she really possessed to take it all away from him. No, he wouldn't, but his tactics had suddenly taken a sharp one-eighty.

_I talked to Horace Slughorn about creating Horcruxes again. He was ever-so reluctant to pass on the information, but men of his nature are rather easy to persuade with simple gifts. I shall dispose of him later to make sure he doesn't pass on his knowledge of my ideas to someone who might stand in my way, but for now he holds the key to my becoming immortal and bringing glory to the name of Salazar once more. It's only a matter of time now. My followers are becoming weary of me, but I will show them what rewards the followers of Lord Voldemort will reap. It is almost too simple._

"Only a matter of time." Voldemort hissed to himself, his scarlet eyes gazing at nothing. He had work to do.

--

Hermione looked at the bowl of water sitting exactly where the Death Eater had placed it. Surely an entire day had already passed, and it was becoming more and more difficult to refuse drinking a tiny sip. Surely it was laced with something, but a tiny drink wouldn't hurt her, right? Her brown eyes were puffy and swollen with little sleep and spurts of heart-wrenching sobs. She would have never guessed that she would be in Voldemort's stronghold with nothing but a bowl of water and a pile of bones to keep her company. She longed for a shower and at least a blanket.

Just a sip, then? Just a small sip. The water was so calm and clear in the bowl it was almost taunting her. She imagined throwing the bowl at the wall and watching the water splatter the bloodstains and wash them clean. She imagined throwing herself face-first into the bowl and drinking the entire contents in less than three seconds. She would do it, too. Thirst was cruel.

"Just a sip." Hermione cracked out between chapped, dry lips and then buried her face in her hands. It was so weak of her. So, so weak. People were out there dying for their cause and Hermione's only dilemma was whether or not to drinking a bowl of water. Well. It wasn't so much a matter of whether or not to drink it, it was a matter of how long she had until she caved and drank every last drop of sweet, cool water that would ease the pain in her throat and wet down her voice. "Just a sip and that's it."

She reached out a thin, trembling hand and grabbed the edge of the bowl. The tips of her fingers were submersed in the water and she moaned in longing. She pulled the bowl closer and then pulled her fingers up to her mouth and sucked the water off. She repeated the action, and then suddenly she was lifting the bowl to her mouth and drinking all of it down as fast as she could. She stopped about halfway through the bowl and began to sip it to make it last a little longer. She felt groggy and stupid, her eyelids drooped a little bit, and then someone was walking into the cell and looking down at her.

"What is your name?" Voldemort whispered to her, his voice barely audible.

"Hermione Moira Granger." Hermione answered in a curt voice that was not like the one she normally used to talk to anyone. Inside her head, she was barely aware of talking at all, but farther back in the corners of her brain she was fighting like mad to get control back of her mouth.

"Where is Harry Potter?" Voldemort asked, and he even conjured a chair for himself and sat before her, his thin mouth quirking a little with the present he had before him. All sorts of knowledge just waiting for him to discover.

"With the Order of the Phoenix in the safehouse." Hermione responded automatically.

"Where is the safehouse?" Voldemort asked.

"Only the secret keeper knows that information." Hermione answered.

"And who is the secret keeper?"

"Remus Lupin." Hermione answered, but her voice was an unwilling whisper.

"Are you the secret keeper for anyone?"

"Yes."

"And who?"

"Minerva McGonnagall." Hermione even winced as she said this, but she still had not gained control of her mouth.

"Were you aware that you held the ability of controlling life and death, Hermione?" Her named rolled off of his tongue smoothly enough, but Hermione did not respond to him calling her by her given name as she had before.

"I was not." Hermione responded, sounding even a little hesitant.

"Is the Veritaserum wearing off of you?" Voldemort asked her, his eyes narrowing in consideration.

"Yes."

"Very well." Voldemort rose and the chair disappeared immediately. "Severus Snape will be your next little guest. He will move you to a new chamber and you are to cooperate if you don't want your father to die." His mouth curved in the shadow of a smile as Hermione gasped and seemed to be shaken from her Veritaserum stupor. "Oh yes. He is still very alive and will remain so for as long as you cooperate nicely." He stepped from the room and the door shut behind him.

Hermione gazed at the pile of bones in the corner, her only friend, and curled up on the floor and wept at the realization of what was to come.

--

**A little longer than the last chapter, I might mention. Still setting everything up. I should have an update in a couple of days. **


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